Five Ways Tezuka Didn't Lose Fuji Syuusuke
by Koyuki
Summary: In other worlds, other lifetimes, Tezuka loses Fuji. This is how it never happens, five times over. TezuFuji
1. one

A/N: This was an interesting sort of concept for a themed challenge I ended up dropping, but I thought the idea was interesting, so I'll keep working at it. There are five parts left to write, and hopefully, I won't let this die.

For 24 hour themes, 2AM Ridding partnerships or relationships of negativity.

Pairing: Tezuka x Fuji

Warnings: yaoi, angst

Disclaimer: I do not own _Tennis no Oujisama_, Tezuka Kunimitsu, or Fuji Syuusuke. No copyright infringement intended.

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Five Ways Tezuka Didn't Lose Fuji Syuusuke

one.

The note was lying innocently on the table when he got home. He did not notice it at first, scuffling around the kitchen as he put away their newly-purchased groceries, his footsteps filling the echoing silence of the apartment.

Tezuka was setting a bag of coffee on the table when he caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye. He frowned slightly as he picked it up, the note slightly wrinkled from being crushed and tossed about by the groceries. He glanced at it and paused, the silence of the apartment ringing loudly in his ears. Tezuka's eyes widened as its message hit him.

"It's over."

He stared at the note, Fuji's elegant handwriting playing out words so bold and direct in a manner nothing like the evasive subtlety of its writer. Fuji's other notes were always elusive, taunting him with a meaning that he never could quite grasp until Fuji enlightened him. This time was different. Fuji was serious. It was done.

Tezuka scowled to himself. He didn't want it to be over, not when he still had the image of Fuji smiling softly at him over breakfast fresh in his mind. Not when they had so many years together and so many more in front of them.

There hadn't been anything wrong when he left this morning. They hadn't had a fight in months. If Fuji had any thoughts of breaking up in the last few weeks, it certainly hadn't been showing in their sex life. He stared at the note again. It offered no remedy to Fuji's reasoning.

Tezuka frowned to himself as he carried the note to their bedroom. He slowly opened the door, appraising the scene before him. It was meticulously clean, though horribly devoid of any sign that Fuji ever lived in there as well.

Tezuka opened their closet. Empty of Fuji's clothes. If Fuji had been packing, he was sure he would've noticed. None of his jackets were disarranged in a manner of someone trying to hurry and grab everything they could. It simply seemed as if Fuji had never existed at all.

He looked down at the note in his hand, silently glaring. He didn't want to lose Fuji. He never lost at anything, not when it was truly important. But Fuji was his own person and there was no way Tezuka could force him into anything he didn't want. He wasn't sure he could win against Fuji.

Tezuka angrily stalked out of the room, crumpling the note in his hand. He headed back to the kitchen, ready to throw it away and make dinner, clear his mind, move away from the mess. He held the note over the trash can and paused, staring at it. He couldn't do it. He couldnt throw it away.

Sighing, he uncrumpled the note gingerly and set it back on the table so delicately as if it would break if he did not treat it with such care. There was a moment of silence.

Tezuka calmly walked back to their - his - bedroom and crawled under the covers. He was tired. He didn't want to think about it. He hoped it was a bad dream and when he woke up in the morning Fuji would just be there and this mess a bloody nightmare that he would never return to.

He fell into an uneasy slumber.

When Tezuka awoke again, the grandfather clock in the living room struck two. He laid in the darkness, staring at the other side of the bed. It was still empty. Quietly, he trudged into the kitchen and proceeded to make two cups of coffee. He drank his own as he set the other one down on the kitchen table.

The note was still there.

_to follow._

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Next up: Tezuka was never good at asking for what he wanted, even when it was right in front of him.


	2. two

A/N: SURPRISE! I am not only alive, but still writing this fic. I reformatted the previous chapter slightly as well.

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Five Ways Tezuka Didn't Lose Fuji Syuusuke

two.

She was pretty and petite with her long brown hair and warm smile, and Tezuka immediately disliked her - almost even hated her. Still, out of obligation and courtesy, he put on a gracious face, and offered her his hand and a rare smile. All for Fuji. Anything for Fuji.

She took his hand and shook it enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling and her voice ringing with happiness and laughter. "Syuusuke has told me so much about you!" Her voice was gentle, and her warm hands were still wrapped around his. Tezuka could already feel the guilt curling at the pit of his stomach. "Even though we've just met, I already feel like I've known you since forever. It's so good to finally be able to meet you, Tezuka-san."

He nodded back at her in his usual collected manor. "You as well," he managed to reply, but the bitter taste of a lie was already seeping into his mouth. "However, he never did manage to convey _quite_ how beautiful you are though." She blushed slightly, and from the side, Fuji chuckled softly.

"Now, now, Tezuka, I can't have you go and steal my bride, can I?" Fuji joked as he approached them, stopping right next to her.

"Am I that untrustworthy a friend, Fuji?" His tone was cold, though a stranger would never have noticed it. He knew that Fuji would. "Though it is quite tempting," he added so that they didn't have to respond to the previous question, and then glanced in her direction.

She dodged to hide behind Fuji. "You never told me he was so teasing, Syuusuke."

"Ah. It seems that he's in a rare mood today," Fuji answered back, ignoring Tezuka's stare.

Mitsuki - that was her name, he managed to find out fifteen minutes into the conversation - chatted happily at him the whole time and Tezuka mostly nodded and pretended to pay attention to what she was saying. Tezuka found her to be traditional and boringly docile, (and rather irritatingly, probably a good match for Fuji). Eventually, even she picked up on his annoyed mood, and became a little more subdued after that. Finally, it was Fuji that interrupted the whole ordeal.

"Look at the time, Mitsuki. Didn't you have somewhere to be at 2:30 today?"

"Ah!" She glanced at her watch and got up hurriedly. "You're right. I'm such an airhead," she laughed. "What would I do without you, Syuusuke?"

(Tezuka wanted to know the answer to that as well.)

She bowed politely at Tezuka. "Sorry for my rudeness," she apologized, but seemed more relieved than anything else. "We should do this again sometime."

"We should," he agreed, nodding back at her without any intent to follow through on his words at all.

"You shouldn't be so cold, Tezuka," Fuji commented as the two of them watched her small figure retreat down the street. "I think you scared off my fiancee."

Tezuka didn't bother to dignify that with a response.

Instead, later that night he says over drinks, "You never told me." (Tezuka didn't really like drinking but he'd found that alcohol sometimes helped the words slip out more easily than when he was sober.)

Fuji looked up from his drink, bemused for a moment before finally realizing what Tezuka meant. "You never asked."

Tezuka grunted. "That's not a very good excuse."

"I never told you about the others either." Fuji swirled a straw around his drink. "Not until they ended, at least."

They sat in silence for a while.

"Do you love her?" he eventually asked.

"No, not really," Fuji said quietly.

Tezuka stared at him for a moment before leaving it as that.

Eventually, Tezuka had to drag Fuji away from the bar. Fuji was better at pretending not to be drunk than most people and had better tolerance for alcohol than most people his size, but Fuji was still _his size_ even if he was no lightweight. So when Fuji's speech started to slur, Tezuka knew that it was about time for them to go home.

"You never asked," Fuji mumbled again as Tezuka tried to simultaneously prop him up with one hand and search for the spare key Fuji had given him to his studio apartment with the other. It was more difficult than it usually was for Tezuka as he wasn't exactly sober either.

Tezuka paused in his search for a moment before jingling the keys around and inserted the right one in the keyhole. "No, I suppose I never did." They weren't talking about Mitsuki.

Tezuka stumbled into Fuji's apartment and rather ungracefully attempted to drag Fuji onto his bed.

"Why didn't you?"

He didn't really have an answer so he remained silent as kneeled down by the foot of the bed to begin unbuttoning the buttons of Fuji's shirt. Tezuka didn't really want to help Fuji change, but he figured he could at least take off his shirt so it wouldn't get wrinkled.

"You know, if you had asked, I wouldn't have said no." Fuji suddenly sounded a lot more sober.

Tezuka's hands stopped and fell to his sides. "I didn't think you would have," he admitted as he stood up.

Fuji had collapsed onto the bed on his side, facing him, and as Tezuka tried to turn away, Fuji grabbed the bottom of his shirt. "I still wouldn't.

Time seemed to stand still as Fuji waited to hear Tezuka's response. Tezuka could hear Fuji's clock faintly ticking in the background.

"But I couldn't wait for you forever, Kunimitsu."

"I... I'm sorry, Syuusuke," he finally said, and Fuji reluctantly let go of his shirt.

Tezuka got to the door before turning around. The two of them stared at each other.

_Don't go,_ Fuji wanted to say, but stopped himself, though his eyes conveyed the message clearly enough.

_I don't want to._ But Tezuka's pride refused to let him to respond.

Instead, he cleared his throat and whispered, "Good night, Fuji."

Tezuka left the key on Fuji's kitchen counter.

_to follow._

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A/N: I don't like asking for comments, but I'm not sure I really I want to continue writing this that much. I might cut it down by one, but Four doesn't sound as nice as Five does it? So if you enjoy it, please do tell me, and I'll try to write faster.

There's a reason I named her Mitsuki, by the way. Think about it.

Next up: Tennis has always been Tezuka's true love, so where does that leave Fuji?


	3. three

A/N: Wow, it's been a while. Sorry about that folks. I've had most of this written since like January and a beta edit in March, but I never got around to following through the edits until today. Fail.

Thanks to **Peridot Tears, Crazy Sardines, xHakumeix, and skele-gro ** who left comments. :3

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Five Ways Tezuka Didn't Lose Fuji Syuusuke  
three.

"These are the endorsement deals that have come in since you were here last week," his agent said as she pushed a folder of files towards him.

Tezuka stared at it for a moment before sighing and picking up the folder, thumbing through the offers. Ever since his debut and subsequent surprising win at the Japan Open last year, Tezuka Kunimitsu had received plenty of attention from both the professional tennis world and the Japanese media. With advertisers never being ones to pass up an easy marketing opportunity, offers from sponsors of tennis rackets to soda drinks had quickly poured in.

Tezuka wasn't stupid; he knew it was part of The Game. After all, the prize from his win last year hardly made up a fifth of his yearly earnings. Still, it was hard not to be disenchanted by it. Tezuka had gone into tennis because he loved the sport, not because he wanted the fame or fortune.

He didn't particularly care about any of the offers in the folder he was currently looking through. Tezuka knew that there wasn't a guarantee of success in the larger, more competitive competitions, but as long as he made enough for financial security, Tezuka didn't really care. All of the deals he actually had any concern about - mostly the tennis equipment - he had already accepted.

He put the folder back on her desk. "I don't care. Choose whatever ones you think are best." Probably the ones she thought would best fit his 'image'. (Tezuka didn't particularly like her agenda, but he put up with it anyway.)

She looked at him rather disdainfully, as if she were about to chastise him for not putting more thought into it. Tezuka ignored her. After all, he paid her to think about these kinds of things for him so he could focus on the tennis.

She pushed the folder aside and cleared her throat. "In any case, I think we need to talk about your _situation_," she said in that tone that Tezuka knew she meant Fuji. Tezuka had already made it clear that it was none of her business and that she should stay out of his personal life.

"There is no 'situation', as you put it," he replied calmly.

She held up a gossip magazine and flipped to the page she had bookmarked. "There's a picture of you two in here having dinner together."

Tezuka raised an eyebrow. He knew that plenty of tennis players and other sports celebrities were hardly exempt from gossip and dealing with the paparazzi, but it wasn't as if Tezuka had any plans to do something worthy of being talked about in that way.

"What's the problem with that? Are friends not allowed to have dinner together?" It wasn't completely false. Fuji was still his friend.

"And the article talks about how he might be your _lover_." She stared at him challengingly.

Tezuka stared back at her with equal resolve. If they considered him having a _relationship_ of all things to be too scandalous, then that was hardly on his head.

"Tezuka-san, you're going to lose endorsement deals." Her voice rose.

"If you're worried about your salary, I can find someone else for the job instead."

She looked as unimpressed as he felt.

"What do you suggest I do then? Find a fake lover? Lie when they ask about my relationship status?" Not that he would do that even if she agreed with those suggestions. Tezuka wasn't going to be open about his relationship - it was his _private_ life, after all - but he was hardly going to lie about it either.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I've already handled the issue," she replied matter-of-factly.

"You've... already handled it?"

"I contacted Fuji-san and informed him that such conduct for a sports photographer is inappropriate, especially with one of his subjects. And that I would report him to his agency, if need-be."

Tezuka turned around and headed for the door. "You're fired," he told her somewhat numbly. He still had time to fix this, he told himself, right?

"We have a contract, Tezuka-san."

He spun around and glared at her. "We had a contract until you violated it. I will be contacting _your_ agency to inform them of _your_ inappropriate conduct tomorrow," he replied in a voice he hadn't used since his days as tennis team captain. And even back then, he'd never been so furious.

"Wait, Tezuka-san," she sounded a little frantic now, no doubt worried for her job. "I was only thinking of your future."

"Think of my future? If you had been thinking about my future, you would've kept out of my personal life."

Tezuka tuned out her other protests as he walked out of her office and into the hallway, her following behind, attempting to stop him. She gave up once he left the building.

Tezuka pulled out his cellphone and stared at the screen. One voice mail, it reported, and Tezuka dialed his voice mail, hoping it was not who he thought it would be.

Unfortunately, it was.

_"Tezuka,"_ Fuji's voice rang through the phone. To perhaps anyone else, his voice would've sounded calm, but Tezuka could hear the slight waver of uncertainty in it. There was a long pause before Fuji continued again. _"We both knew it had to end sometime,"_ (no, Tezuka thinks, it never had to end - it still doesn't) _"- that you'd have to choose eventually."_ (choose what? Choose between Fuji and some endorsement deals he didn't even want?)

_"Did I ever have a chance, Tezuka? It was always going to be me or tennis... there was never enough room in your heart for more than one."_ Fuji took a shaky breath before continuing, and Tezuka's heart stopped. _" Other people have to make a living too, y'know. The world can't keep revolving around you. But the way it's going, it probably will soon."_ Fuji laughed humorlessly. _"Anyway, I'll see you around,"_ he said, as if he were reminding Tezuka to pick up groceries and not breaking up with him through voice mail.

Tezuka dialed Fuji's number and swore under his breath when he heard the message. He hung up and redialed, again and again, receiving the same result.

_Sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service..._

_to follow._

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A/N: I apologize for this horrible chapter. I started hating myself for writing about 80% of the way through by which time I decided just to finish it.

If you enjoyed (or even if you didn't), please don't forget to review!

Next up: Distance does not always make the heart grow fonder. 


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